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“To keep you busy. I knew he’d be so involved trying to get between your legs that the two of you wouldn’t notice if hell froze over. And Randall’s got the advantage of having no paper work, no records at Langley at all. When he buys it today, no one down there will even notice.”

“And you’ll get away with a nice sum of money.”

“I will indeed. Come along, sweetcakes.”

“Where?”

Willis jabbed the barrel of his sawed-off machine gun into her ribs. “Anywhere I tell you. Right, sweetie?” He moved the gun to aim it at Kate.

“Right,” said Maggie.

He looked over his shoulder at Alicia, who was calmly smoking her brightly colored cigarettes, her fuchsia mouth vivid against her sickly pallor. “Meet me in the car. We don’t have any time to waste—the sooner we’re away from here, the better.”

“I wanted to call Jefferson—”

“You can call him from the studio,” Bud said sharply, and the gun jabbed nervously into Maggie’s back again. “Do as I tell you, or you can join these two bitches in the house.”

“I’ll be in the car,” Alicia said, turning her back on them.

“Alicia, you can’t let him do this,” Kate said suddenly, her voice pleading. “You’ve been like a mother to me.”

Alicia halted for a brief moment, looking at her over her shoulder, and her face was old and drawn. “You should know better than anyone how useless mothers are, honey.” And she turned away from them once more, heading down the steps to the front of the house.

“No help from that quarter,” Bud said cheerfully. “Get a move on, you two.”

They had no choice but to precede him into the deserted, air-conditioned mansion. “You want to tell us what you have planned for us, Bud?” Maggie asked politely.

“Sure thing, Maggie. Anticipation is half the pleasure,” he said affably. “I’m going to lock the two of you in Alicia’s bathroom.”

“Oooh, sounds dangerous,” Maggie snapped.

“There are no windows. No way for you to get out. Everything’s nicely soundproofed, so no one can overhear anyone taking a crap. Alicia’s sold the house to some developers. Tomorrow morning, bright and early, bulldozers and wrecking equipment are coming by to level this place to make room for nice little condominiums. No one’s gonna hear your screams, sweetcakes.”

“You don’t want them to find our bodies.”

Bud shrugged. “I could give a rat’s ass. If they find you, fine. If not, it won’t matter, either, ’cause we’ll be long gone.”

“Chrissie—” Kate said, her voice desperate.

“Chrissie’s okay.” Maggie placed a reassuring hand on her sister’s shoulder. “Randall took her to stay with his sister.”

Kate stopped still on the wide, curving staircase that Bud had herded them to, ignoring the gun. “Did you know about it?” she demanded.

“He didn’t see fit to tell me.”

“I’ll kill him,” Kate breathed, rage and relief filling her eyes.

“You won’t need to,” Bud said. “I’m planning on doing that myself. But I’ll send him your regards. Keep moving.”

Alicia’s bathroom was the size of a small bedroom, with a sunken tub, three sinks, a toilet that resembled the British throne, and an equally ornate bidet. As Bud had said, there were no windows, and the door had solid, unpickable locks, worthy of someone with an absolute fixation for privacy. Maggie paused in the doorway, looking at Bud out of the corner of her eye, wondering if she had any chance at all. She was more than a match for most men, but Bud Willis was a fighting machine, an inhuman automaton with the jungle instincts of a mamba snake. He was western democracy’s version of a terrorist, and she knew she’d stand no chance at all of even coming close to him.

Kate had walked into the room and slumped down on the floor, burying her face in her arms. Still Maggie lingered by the door. Willis was smiling his skeletal smile, his transparent eyes gleeful, and he smelled of sweat and death. “Sorry it has to end this way, Maggie,” he said. “I had better things planned for you.”

“Such as?”

He shook his head. “I don’t want to disappoint you by telling you all about the pleasure you’ll be missing. I just want to tell you a little something to make your last few hours a little brighter.”

“I don’t think I want to hear it.”

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